Pen Inked Dreams
by WeirdMe
Summary: Write the story you wish to dream, my darling. One shot.


Take this pen. Oh yes she will. And write a little story. Where kings stayed home and never went away. Mothers laughed and danced and swayed. Where princes roamed, and gave kisses away for only one to keep. Princesses were classy, and had kisses to foreheads before sleep. Dresses were long, and never shorter than the knee, makeup was frowned upon. For nature looks were what stole the heart.

Birds weren't caught in metal nets. Animals free, and never hurt. Nothing was dark, gold was the sky. Green was the grass. Perfect butterflies, with wings that flew, and filled the air with art no one could describe. Laughs were all that spoke, instead of words with knives.

And that's what she wrote. Right on her arm. In a building ripped to shreds from a little fire. For her mother's cigarette that caught on the drapes. Her father gone and with another family, perfect and pretty.

In this World she refused to stay. Here is where her boyfriend gave kisses away to many girls. And she never got kisses to the forehead before sleep. Makeup was on her face for _her_ nature looks captured no hearts. Clothes were short, and showed bare knees.

And she wrote. With a stele with cold kisses. In a land, far, far away, her father be king. And love her always. Her mother laugh once again, and not have alcohol on her breath. Her boyfriend love her. No, no no, then would come a prince instead. With Heaven's eyes, and yellow hair, steal her away from a boyfriend who loved her, but had seen she deserves better. Not the other way around. And with cold, sad black eyes, with matching hair, walked away.

Lying, she is, in the cold street of New York. The house of her home crumbling and black. A picture in hand, a married man, to a red haired daughter, of only three, and happy wife, who had looks of her daughter. Then, at ten, leaving he was, to a son named Jonathan, better than she was. Clinks of glass, and sloshing liquid, poured from bottles of her mother's hand. Of right now, lying in the street, her boyfriend cheating ways. Of how she was not prettiest of the pack. A girl named Isabelle, who had stolen her boyfriend's heart. Whose glossy coal black hair had the shininess of fresh magazines. Grabbed her best friend, also, she did, with warming arms. Now she lay, in a cold winter of New York. A gift of Shadowhunter World lay in her hands. With this cylinder, she wrote, of dreams and tales that never came true.

In the land of hopes and dreams, the prince of gold kisses her forehead before sleep. Only gives kisses to her. Her best friend is here, and only for her he waits and loves and cares. And Isabelle was a witch, uglier than she, and anyone else. _Her_ hair was glossy like shimmering sparkles instead of the real life girl.

Music was laughter, and tears of sadness never existed. Mocking were words cut off on the tongue. The land where demons never roamed, the fears that their kind has chased. The prince with Heaven's eyes danced and laughed for _she_ had captured his heart with her natural nature. He was the one who would propose with a ring, and nearly cry when she would walk down the aisle.

The palace, _her_ home, would not lay in black crumbles, but white, like the moon when full. Tall would be the palace, and spacious too. An art room would be placed right between the living room and kitchen, so she could always relax and not walk far, or grab a snack. Yes, yes, she had always wanted to learn to paint and draw. _He_ would paint too. The prince would draw her prettier than she was. But that's how he saw her. She would laugh and claim that not to be her, but he would scowl and say facts of how it was she.

And one last mark, before it all ends. Kisses of this World she refused to live in. _Goodbye_, she called, to Hell and Heaven combined. Of graves of lost souls, and alive bodies. _Goodbye_, to this World she refused to live in. _One last mark_, that curved and dug into pale skin. She dropped into fairy tale land. The end.

**Author's Note: Little on the short side? Yes, maybe could use another hundred words, but I still like it. Do you? The readers out there, do you like it? **

**Thanks Beta cammieXzachxx.**


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